My Son, the Teacher

I told my kids that the two most important things are Jewish education and the State of Israel. How was I to know that they were actually listening?

When the kids were little I would say, eat your broccoli -- it's good for you, and they would sneak it to the dog under the table. At night I said, go to bed -- children need at least eight hours solid sleep to grow on, and they would take flashlights and books under the covers. (This was before Gameboy.)

When they were in high school, I would say, the two most important things in our lives are Jewish education and the State of Israel. How was I to know that they had started listening? Aliza has ended up in Ramat Beit Shemesh, and Jonathan decided to decline dentistry school in favor of becoming a yeshiva high school teacher of Talmud and Bible.

Toward the end of his junior year of college, when Jon was wrestling with what career to choose, we had long, impassioned conversations. His father tried mightily to impress upon him how expensive life is today. "You have no concept of what it means to pay rent, medical insurance, car insurance, groceries, taxes -- the list goes on and on." He must have made an impression because Jonathan applied to the dentistry schools at New York University and UMDNJ (University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey), and was accepted by both.

We should have predicted what was coming. Toward the end of his college senior year, he requested and received a one-year deferment from UMDNJ. He wanted to finish his requirements for rabbinic ordination and a master's degree in Jewish education. "After this year, I'll be so busy with dental school that I won't have a minute to study Torah." It made sense. He never talked about his future profession as a dentist. He just buckled down to get his smicha (rabbinical ordination).

"Anybody can fix teeth. I need to be in Jewish education. Jewish education needs me."

Jonathan is a gifted teacher. He has spent summers as a camp counselor and Sundays teaching in congregational school. He is a terrific athlete, which the kids respect. He uses his athletics and his good-natured sense of humor to forge a relationship with his charges. I was surprised and a little disappointed when he opted for dentistry, even though it put me at odds with my husband. I'm not as financially realistic as he is, and I just thought Jonathan would find a way to manage if he went into teaching. As bright and dexterous as he is, I couldn't see him as a dentist, but I didn't say so. The days of my telling him what to do had passed. Having married a wonderful girl after college, this was their decision to make. Jon and I have always had a special relationship, one of those mother/son things. He was to start at UMDNJ last year in the third week of August. In mid-August, he called me at work. "Mom, I can't do it. I can't not teach. I'm good at it and I love it and it's meaningful. Anybody can fix teeth. I need to be in Jewish education. Jewish education needs me."

I actually cried with relief. This felt right. After all, I've been working in Jewish education in one capacity or another for more than 30 years, and I know that our community desperately needs good teachers. "Mom, how do I tell Dad? He's going to be so upset." Upset does not begin to describe how he would feel. Livid comes to mind. Devastated is not far behind.

"Jonathan," I said, "you sound like the daughter who wants to marry the poor tailor in ‘Fiddler on the Roof ' and is afraid to tell her mother ... Hey, how have you been sleeping this week?"

"Terribly. I've been agonizing over this."

"Okay! That's what we'll tell Dad. We want you to be happy, and a pile of money is not going to guarantee your happiness. You have to be doing what you love. Tell Dad you couldn't sleep this week and eventually he'll come around."

It wasn't as immediate a reprieve as Tevya manipulated, but Allen understood what Jonathan was saying. More surprising were the reactions of our friends. Some of them congratulated us on raising so idealistic a child. Many of them commiserated, concerned about his future earnings potential -- and the effect of his decision on their own children, who were at the same crossroads. For a year they had been telling their kids, "Why can't you be like Jonathan Kessel?" Now what would they tell their sons?

Jon made his decision late last year, too late to get a full-time teaching appointment. But he did get a part-time position, which enabled him to get used to teaching on the high-school level. He did so well in the eyes of his students and the administration that they offered him a full-time job with a respectable salary, which began this September.

He and Rachel will be earning enough to be independent. They have a little baby, but for a few years yet they'll be spared the kind of backbreaking tuition bills that gobble up all disposable income. Perhaps by then, the earnings potential for teachers will have caught up to that in other professions. The Jewish community doesn't know how lucky it is to have someone of Jonathan's caliber make the decision he did. He regards his talent as a gift from God, one that he sees as conferring on him a solemn responsibility.

We are proud beyond words of Jon and Rachel. We invoke God's blessings on them, and we pray that over the years our community will join us in expressing tangible appreciation to the men and women who partner with us in parenting our most precious resource.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 6

(6)
DrFLKotkin,
October 27, 2006 3:04 PM

The most important thing

The two most important things for anyone's children, Jewish or not, are being a decent and honest human being.Without that, there can be no Torah, and no Jewish future.

(5)
Anonymous,
October 25, 2006 6:50 AM

What tuition?

Appreciate hearing about our idealistic youth. Am confused though about the concern for future tuition - Don't teachers receive substantial breaks on tuition for their children? Such is the case without exception in the Yeshivos and Orthodox Day Schools I am familiar with.

(4)
DebyGoodman,
October 23, 2006 8:06 PM

salary vs tuition

In one breath you lament the low salaries of teachers, and in the next comment on the "backbreaking tuitions" they will have to pay for their own children. Perhaps the time has come for Jewish communities to undertake to fully subsidize the education of our children, or at least the majority of it, so that these costs are born by the entire community, not just the parents. No parent, especially of multiple children, can afford to pay any teacher what they are really worth!

(3)
Jennifer,
October 23, 2006 6:04 PM

You're a Great Mother

You're a great (and very smart) mother for recognizing the enormous value of your son's profession to the world at large.

Children are always listening. It's how we instruct them (the tone of our voices and the words we use) that makes the difference.

(2)
Andrea,
October 23, 2006 10:47 AM

What a blessing!

I cried reading this article, I too changed my career plans to be a teacher and 20 years later I have no regrets. I want to teach for another 100 years! I hope my 2 boys follow their heart too. Mazel Tov!

(1)
Anonymous,
October 22, 2006 11:00 PM

This was a beautiful article. You should be very proud for raising such wonderful children. It is great to hear someone accord those who are in chinuch the accolades they more than deserve.

I've been striving to get more into spirituality. But it seems that every time I make some progress, I find myself slipping right back to where I started. I'm getting discouraged and feel like a failure. Can you help?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Spiritual slumps are a natural part of spiritual growth. There is a cycle that people go through when at times they feel closer to God and at times more distant. In the words of the Kabbalists, it is "two steps forward and one step back." So although you feel you are slipping, know that this is a natural process. The main thing is to look at your overall progress (over months or years) and be able to see how far you've come!

This is actually God's ingenious way of motivating us further. The sages compare this to teaching a baby how to walk. When the parent is holding on, the baby shrieks with delight and is under the illusion that he knows how to walk. Yet suddenly, when the parent lets go, the child panics, wobbles and may even fall.

At such times when we feel spiritually "down," that is often because God is letting go, giving us the great gift of independence. In some ways, these are the times when we can actually grow the most. For if we can move ourselves just a little bit forward, we truly acquire a level of sanctity that is ours forever.

Here is a practical tool to help pull you out of the doldrums. The Sefer HaChinuch speaks about a great principle in spiritual growth: "The external awakens the internal." This means that although we may not experience immediate feelings of closeness to God, eventually, by continuing to conduct ourselves in such a manner, this physical behavior will have an impact on our spiritual selves and will help us succeed. (A similar idea is discussed by psychologists who say: "Smile and you will feel happy.")

That is the power of Torah commandments. Even if we may not feel like giving charity or praying at this particular moment, by having a "mitzvah" obligation to do so, we are in a framework to become inspired. At that point we can infuse that act of charity or prayer with all the meaning and lift it can provide. But if we'd wait until being inspired, we might be waiting a very long time.

May the Almighty bless you with the clarity to see your progress, and may you do so with joy.

In 1940, a boatload 1,600 Jewish immigrants fleeing Hitler's ovens was denied entry into the port of Haifa; the British deported them to the island of Mauritius. At the time, the British had acceded to Arab demands and restricted Jewish immigration into Palestine. The urgent plight of European Jewry generated an "illegal" immigration movement, but the British were vigilant in denying entry. Some ships, such as the Struma, sunk and their hundreds of passengers killed.

If you seize too much, you are left with nothing. If you take less, you may retain it (Rosh Hashanah 4b).

Sometimes our appetites are insatiable; more accurately, we act as though they were insatiable. The Midrash states that a person may never be satisfied. "If he has one hundred, he wants two hundred. If he gets two hundred, he wants four hundred" (Koheles Rabbah 1:34). How often have we seen people whose insatiable desire for material wealth resulted in their losing everything, much like the gambler whose constant urge to win results in total loss.

People's bodies are finite, and their actual needs are limited. The endless pursuit for more wealth than they can use is nothing more than an elusive belief that they can live forever (Psalms 49:10).

The one part of us which is indeed infinite is our neshamah (soul), which, being of Divine origin, can crave and achieve infinity and eternity, and such craving is characteristic of spiritual growth.

How strange that we tend to give the body much more than it can possibly handle, and the neshamah so much less than it needs!